poems of the sea and the stars
by louseverine
Summary: "The world belongs to those who love. Because only they can see beauty and only through seeing can the world be yours. So I must love, as painful as it is, to claim my piece of existence." And so Rachel owned the world, because she loved the most mysteriously beautiful and unattainable girl of them all. Quinn Fabray. Her Quinn, a burning star, reflected in the sea of her sadness.
1. The World Belongs to Lovers

**A/N:** This is the first ever fanfiction story I'm writing and I'm incredibly nervous about it. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know how I'm doing and leave me a review. I'm putting my heart into this story and I'm sending you all love. I hope you feel it :) So let's start this adventure together, shall we? :D  
Also, I'm looking for a beta, please message me if you're interested :)  
signed, your very nervous and excited author  
Loulou

**Disclaimer: **I do, of course, not own Glee or any of the characters. I do not follow Glee's storyline, everything I write comes from my crazy little head, apart from the characters, unless otherwise stated.

**poems of the sea and the stars**

Rachel sat next to Finn and was telling him about this amazing vegan restaurant she'd been to in New York, which would totally be enough reason for her to move there, yes, it really was that good, especially the pasta, but it was already clear anyway that New York was her future home, considering her career.

Finn was busy trying to place a sneaky kiss on her lips - she always moved when he was really close - so it took him a while to notice Rachel's sudden silence.

She was staring at a point behind him, mouth agape.

"What are you looking at, Rach?"

"Quinn", she responded in a soft tone, before turning around with a short look of horror followed by blushing.

Finn was confused. "So?", he asked.

"It's just she's all sweaty and her hair looks messy, which, you know, with Quinn Fabray, well.."

"Yeah, she's always like, styled perfectly, it's weird if she's like that." He gestured vaguely in Quinn's direction and grinned widely. it hardly happened that he had to finish Rachel's sentences because she lost her words, normally it was the other way around, and he enjoyed how smart it made him feel.

Rachel seemed to have composed herself again, she beamed at him. "That's exactly what I meant to say, thank you Finn, it's just that you never see her looking less than perfect, so it took me by surprise, seeing her in this state, although of course it's understandable, seeing as she did just come from the field, so I'm assuming she had Cheerios practice, however she still is very beautiful, I didn't mean to deny that at all, but I couldn't really see her that well from the distance anyways, so I don't think I'm qualified to judge her looks, which I probably also wouldn't be if I would have seen her better and..."

"You don't have to defend her Rach, It's okay, I'm not offended if you talk about my ex that way, I mean, I'm with you now, she's, like, long forgotten."

"Right!", Rachel laughed feebly and looked at Finn, rubbing her forehead as if she had a headache. "I really need to leave now, bye Finn!" And with that she pressed a light kiss on his cheek and disappeared quickly around the corner.

He scratched his head and tried to collect his thoughts. Was she really still jealous of Quinn? She did always react very strangely when he mentioned the cheerleader and she sent him angry looks whenever he showed her any affection. But then again, she always seemed to defend the girl. He hadn't heard one bad word about Quinn leave her mouth in a long time, which surprised him, considering what Rachel had to endure because of McKinley's Ice Queen and her subjects.

He finally decided to push the thoughts aside and blame the unlimited gentleness and slight naivity of his girlfriend. And maybe she was on her period or something, he heard women acted strangely then. He made a mental note to ask his mother about it.

Rachel was rushing off to her car, clutching her bag tightly to her chest. She struggled to keep back the tears. She had to do something, so she wouldn't start thinking. Because if she did, the sadness she's always running from would catch her and with the sadness would come the guilt and Rachel would break down once again. No, she mustn't think, can't think think about Quinn Fabray right now. She had to get home and do her routine first at least, then she could maybe afford to indulge in her thoughts.

So she mustn't think about Quinn's cold eyes with so much sadness hidden behind them, mustn't think about her blonde hair, which is beautiful when in a perfect ponytail, or her clear skin, her smell that mingles perfectly with the perfume she uses.

But especially she mustn't think about the Quinn she just saw, the Quinn with tousled hair, sweaty skin and a silly smile on her lips, which she sometimes gets when she thinks no one can see. Because Finn was right, she didn't look perfect, but the thought that this was what she'd look like if she'd completely let herself go, if she trusted someone enough to open herself, to give everything. The thought that that's what she might look like after..

And there Rachel's mind went again, wandering off to a farytaleland, where Quinn was hers and she was Quinn's, where she could touch her and love her and most importantely get to know everything about her.

She climbed into her car and wiped at her eyes. There they were, the tears. She almost liked them by now, the way you like your mean neighbour after a holiday, because it's something familiar, something that means home. These tears connected her to Quinn stronger than anything else and anything that linked her to Quinn, she'll take. She'll take the pain and she'll gladly take any attention, as abusive as it is, as long as Quinn is there.

Rachel had tried not to think about Quinn once, in her summer holidays, she had banned everything that could remind her of her hopeless love. She felt it was something she had to do, Quinn wasn't healthy for her, she knew she was losing sleep thinking about her, she cried every day. It was a desolate state she was in, but forgetting about Quinn, burning the picture she had in her diary, made her feel empty.

It was as if in order to stop feeling for Quinn, she had to stop feeling anything at all. She became listless and quiet, she didn't even feel like singing anymore. Most of her songs had been for or about Quinn in a way, so how could she sing with her heart, when there were so many locks that prevented her from seeing her pain and also weighed her down. So she stopped singing.

Her fathers of course noticed and talked to her very seriously, telling her to stop whatever she was doing, because she was clearly breaking herself.

It was what Rachel waited for, a signal to let everything back in. There were cracks immediately in all the chains around her treasured memories of Quinn. She ran to her room, went on Quinn's facebook and looking at a picture of her she remembered.

She thought about her smile, her eyes, the way she crooked one eyebrow, how graceful her walk was, how vulnerable she sometimes seemed, her smell and the perfect moment when she hugged her once. She dug through the happy memories she had of Quinn, even the unhappy ones, every moment where she felt a connection between them, everytime Quinn looked her in the eyes when she was singing. She cried and sobbed, her face was red and swollen and she felt like her heart was going to burst with pain and life and love.

And she welcomed the stings and stabs in her chest when she washed off the paint that covered the traces of Quinn's name in her mind. She was alive again, finally, Rachel Berry was there, she loved Quinn Fabray and the pain would not stop unless Rachel ceased to exist. She wanted to exist, wanted to love Quinn, it didn't even matter that there was no hope for any feelings returned.

The pain meant that Rachel still was. The pain also meant that Quinn still was and Quinn being, that was everything.

The memories of that time still hurt, but Rachel was now calmer again, being reminded of why this pain was there, why it had to be there. Suddenly a quote popped into her head, a quote, she had discovered shortly after giving herself over again to her feelings. It had given her strength then and it did again right now.

_The world belongs to those who love. Because only they can see beauty and only through seeing can the world be yours. So I must love, as painful as it is, to claim my piece of existance._

Frantically she began searching her mind so she could find out who wrote it. It must have been an old and beautiful soul and Rachel felt strangely connected to the creator of these words.

She decided to look through her dads' poetry books as soon as she got home, it would give her something to do and maybe she could find the poet she was looking for and read some more of his works. She could explore her feelings vicariously through him, keeping her mind off Quinn and therefore not risking anymore hurt and hysteria this night.

Hiram Berry opened the door to his daughter's room and had to bite back a laugh at seeing her sitting at her desk, brows furrowed and a huge pile of old books in front of her.

"Schoolwork this late, honey?", he asked.

"No, I'm trying to find a quote!" Rachel huffed. "It just popped into my head, but I cannot at all remember where I had it from. It is of utmost importance to me to find it, as I seem to have a strong connection to this poet and he could certainly help me deal with some of the more difficult and complicated emotions I'm going through right now."

"What is the quote? Maybe I can give you a hint as to where you could find it. I know most of these books by heart."

"Thanks daddy!", Rachel beamed and then cited:

_The world belongs to those who love. Because only they can see beauty and only through seeing can the world be yours. So I must love, as painful as it is, to claim my piece of existence._

"I'm sorry, hun, I don't think I've ever heard it. It's beautiful though."

He sat on Rachel's bed and gestured to her to join him. Softly he put his arm around her shoulder as if to protect her from the world.

"Now, tell me, are you lovesick, Rachel? Because as true and beautiful this writing might be, there's a lot of pain behind it. Are you connecting to that, too?"

"No, daddy, I'm not lovesick. I don't like this word, lovesick, and I don't think one shall ever use it. Love is never sick, even if unrequited."

Hiram opened his mouth to agree and inquire further, but Rachel interrupted him.

"But yes, daddy, I am in love, very much so. The greatest, purest and most painful love. Now I know that sounds dramatic, but it's quite the opposite really. It's effortless."

"Are you talking about Finn?", Hiram groaned internally, Finn was a nice boy and if Rachel was happy, he was, too, however for his daughter to be so in love with the football player made him think that the blindness and hormones that come with being a teenager didn't leave her as unaffectedly as he had thought (and wished, if he was honest). He just didn't understand how a guy like that, even if he was a nice kid, could trigger such beautiful and complex emotions.

"Doesn't he love you back?"

"No, not Finn."

She curled up in her daddy's lap and he could hear the tears that layered her voice when she spoke next.

"And no, she does not."

"Oh, my little gold star", Hiram smiled sadly. He softly stroke Rachel's head.

"Whoever she is, sweetheart, and I'm sure she's a most beautiful creature, if she manages to captivate you like this, she is so lucky to have you loving her. And even if she doesn't know it and even if she doesn't care, you are giving her the most beautiful thing we can give. And giving love is never a bad thing, because feeling what you do, makes you who you are and you are perfect, baby girl."

Rachel was softly and steadily crying now, but she also felt a quiet and comforting happiness, knowing, that she had two parents, who truly understood and supported her.

"Thank you daddy, I love you very much, you know."

She was mumbling now, feeling more at peace than before she talked to Hiram and she managed a little smile when he bent down to kiss her goodnight.

"Sleep well, honey. I love you. And don't hide from your love, but try to leave some space for other things too, okay? You know you love her and I know it too now, you don't have to prove it to yourself."

With that, Rachel closed her eyes and started falling asleep, and it was the first evening in a long time where she did not torture herself with thoughts of Quinn. But she also didn't push her away completely, she was there, in the back of her mind quiet and intimate, bringing beautiful dreams full of butterflies and broadway theatres.


	2. Pretending

**A/N: **So, here you go, second chapter :) excited about posting this, again! I hope you like. Please leave a review, these are always very much appreciated. Also, still looking for a beta, if you're interested message me :) I'm always happy about pm as well, don't be shy, I'm a friendly person ;)  
I'm aware that there's not a lot of Quinn in this story so far, but i promise that's going to get better, because I love my Quinnie way too much to not bring her into the story more very soon :)  
So, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Glee or any of the characters, I do also not own the books mentioned. The story and everything the "poet" writes, is mine though :)

**Pretending**

Rachel opened her eyes immediately at hearing her alarm go off. She was convinced that there was no better song to wake up to than "Don't rain on my parade". Apart from being a musical masterpiece sung by the most talented woman to ever grace the earth, it gave her the right attitude to start the day. The only attitude that would help her survive it, if she was honest.

She got out of bed quickly, grabbed her workout clothes, which she had prepared the night before, of course, as she wouldn't waste any part of her precious morning. She always had a lot of energy when she got right out of bed. Most of the time it was an anxious state, feeling like she had to get things done, improve everything about herself, her body, her voice, her performance at school. Also, the routine gave her something to hold on to, something she had to do, but did for herself, something stable she could control.

Today though she actually felt like doing all these things, she was even kind of looking forward to going to school, because something just told her that she'd see Quinn's smile.

So she started on her elliptical, for once not being driven by the feeling of being inadequate, but actually because she felt good about herself.

She even got out a small bottle of shower gel she had saved from the last holiday with her dads. She always saved a bit of the shower gel she used when traveling, because when she showered with it back home, the smell would immediately bring her back to that place, memories would come up and make for a happy and relaxed feeling.

This one smelled like tropical fruit and pictures of sun and a beach appeared in front of her inner eye. She inhaled deeply and smiled at the thought of Leroy teasing Hiram over not catching the ball when playing "piggy in the middle". She could taste the sweetness of the pineapple she ate while watching the sunset on a pier.

That thought made her mouth actually water now, so she got out of the shower, dressed herself and skipped down the stairs to get something to eat.

Leroy was already standing in the kitchen, chopping up some fruit for their breakfast. He handed her a bowl, giving her a little wink. She smiled when noticing the lack of melon, which she hated, and the extra strawberries, which she loved, in her bowl, whereas her daddy got more apples and her dad, of course, balanced as he was, an equal mix of everything.

She poured some soy yogurt over the fruit and took a seat at the counter, opposite her dad.

"Did you hear the newest gossip?", Leroy asked her.

Rachel giggled a bit, it was a strange start to a conversation before you even said good morning to each other, but she'd take it, because she was in a great mood and her dad always made her laugh.

So she gasped dramatically and asked excitedly: "What is it? I demand to be informed right now!"

"Well", he gestured for her to come closer and stage whispered, "They say the one and only Rachel Berry is in love!"

Rachel laughed loudly for a moment, before composing herself and turning serious again.

"I see daddy told you."

"He did and I'm happy for you, Rachie."

"There's not much to be happy about, dad, but I appreciate what you're saying. I would appreciate it even more though, if you could stop calling me Rachie, it's a very silly name anyways, and, I'm sorry dad, but out of your mouth it's just downright comical."

"Alright, Rachel, I guess I'll just have to accept that you're growing up, although you still are tiny."

That last part got him a playful slap to his forearm and a glare, which he did admittedly deserve.

"But back to the serious business. I'm happy for you, because you're in love, Rachel, a first love is always glorious. And I'm happy for you and for me too, if I'm honest, that it's not that Finn kid. He doesn't seem to be the brightest young gentleman around."

Rachel huffed.

"He is lovely, and he is also my boyfriend, if I may remind you!"

"Yes, about that", Leroy replied, now serious again, "You realize it's not fair to stay in that relationship? On neither of you two. I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life, it's the last thing I want to do, I hope you understand that, but I just think it's cruel. And you are doing what we try not to do in this family, giving in to the pressure of what's expected from you. You're taking the easy way out, Rachel, and that's not you, not you at all."

Rachel sighed and dropped her head. This comment had dimmed her happiness immediately and she would have been angry with Leroy for ruining her morning, if she didn't know that he was completely right. Finn was the easy solution, Finn liked her, maybe loved her even, and she couldn't say that about a lot of people at McKinley. He was there for her, a shoulder to cry on, someone to spend friday nights with. Since she started dating him, there were less slushies and more smiles for her in the hallway. If she'd leave Finn, that'd stop. Not to mention it could be fatal for the Glee club, he was her leading man, they needed good chemistry.

Those weren't all the reasons though, because as self centered as Rachel Berry sometimes was, she didn't like to hurt people. And she knew she'd hurt Finn a lot, he wouldn't understand why she was leaving him. It was like finding a little stray puppy when on holidays. You know right from the start that you couldn't take it home, because the paperwork is way too complicated and you don't have time for it, but when it's sitting there in the rain, looking at you with big eyes, wagging it's miserable little tale, you take it in anyways. And you know it's unfair to give all that to it, because it's going to be taken away again very soon, but being the selfish human being that you are, you can't bear the pain it causes you to leave the puppy in the rain.

Yes, Finn was like that puppy and Rachel did love him, in a way. Not in the way one should love their boyfriend, never in the way she loved Quinn, but something was there.

He didn't make her happy, but at least he made her happier.

Maybe Rachel wanted the easy way out, for once in her life, maybe she wasn't strong enough to always fight. Why couldn't she too just give in to the pressure, when her head was aching from keeeping it out?

Still, "I'll try.", she whispered.

Then she was up and grabed her bag, because school didn't wait for foolish teenagers who had to think about their puppy-boyfriends.

When she arrived in the parking lot, Finn was already there, grinning. She got out and allowed him to kiss her a bit longer than the five seconds she normally counted. It was meant as a gesture to ease her guilt a little bit. It didn't, because regardless of length and manner of the kiss, she was thinking of Quinn, as always.

"I'm sorry.", she said, when she pulled back and she meant it, although not in the way Finn understood it.

"It's alright Rach, we have to go to class anyways."

He grinned again. How this boy could be so carefree, Rachel would never know. Blissful ignorance, she guessed.

Her classes this morning flew by, she was focused and organised as always and tried to stay in the classrooms as long as possible, so she wouldn't have to be in the hallway, where she was in danger of suffering an attack, either through slushies or snarky remarks.

In the lunchbreak she hurried towards the choir room, because there was a solo she wanted to work on. It was also a way to avoid Finn and the thoughts of his disappointed face if she were to tell him what she really felt.

Sometimes she got paranoid, feeling like everyone could suddenly see what was going in her head, her thoughts written all over her face in her neat handwriting. it was the scariest thing she could imagine and sometimes she had to check her reflection in a glass window when passing, just to be sure. Then she laughed at herself, for being so silly, but the feeling would appear again after a while.

As she opened the door to the choir room, she noticed hushed voices. On stage, seated in the middle, were Santana and Quinn. Rachel immediately stopped everything she was doing, even breathing for an instance.

"Quinn, please look at me!"

She saw Santana tracing her fingers over Quinn's cheek softly. Rachel could almost feel the soft skin herself, she would have given everything to trade places with Santana right now.

"I could kill that fucking asshole!", the Latina said, the anger in her voice very clear, even from where Rachel was standing. Quinn lifted her head a bit and only now the shimmering tears on her face became evident. She was quietly sobbing and it hurt Rachel more than she'd have ever expected. The need to run up to the stage was maddening. She wanted to hold Quinn and make everything better, wipe away the tears, even though Quinn looked the most beautiful right in this moment. There was something fascinating about the vulnerabilty she had, her eyes shone brighter than ever and the dim lights made the tears turn to diamonds on her face.

It was the most pure and real Rachel had ever seen Quinn and it made her fall in love with her even more deeply. Her whole body was aching and tingling from how much she felt.

But at the same time the scene had something of a theatre performance. The two girls on stage seemed in a completely different world, for Rachel to look at, to feel with them, but completely untouchable. She was just a nameless face in the audience, wanting to change the plot of this play, although she knew it had already been written and she wasn't part of it.

Quietly she wanted to turn around, overwhelmed by the sense of being completely useless, because she was the last person who could help Quinn, the last person Quinn would ever want help from.

But Santana had already spotted her.

"Berry!", she bellowed, "What the fuck are you doing here, midget? Stalking Quinn again?"

Rachel, who had already been on the verge of tears before could hardly keep herself from crying now.

"I just wanted to use the choir room, for-for practicing, I'm sorry, I didn't see much, I'll leave if you want me to, actually, i was just about to leave anyways and.."  
She was cut off by Quinn, who was suddenly standing in front of her, face still tearstained and hate in her eyes. Hate and panic.

"How dare you, manhands, how dare you!", she shouted at her, grabbing her arms and pushing her forcefully against the wall.

"Goddammit!"

Quinn's voice shrieked a bit, she seemed to have completely lost it and in a fit of rage she roughly punched the wall right beside Rachel's head.

Rachel's eyes widened, she was scared to death, Quinn seemed so out of it, she could have been capable of anything in this moment. But then again, she was also nearer to Rachel than she had ever been and the proximity of her face was fascinating. She could see everything, the lonely little freckle on her nose, a tiny scar on her chin, her sweet lips, still trembling, just inches away. And her eyes, big and clear, her irises even greener now that her eyes were reddened from crying. And Rachel could read hurt in them. Real and deep. This wasn't mindless bullying, this was a girl, who didn't know what to do, who couldn't help herself and thus freaked out, just so she'd be doing something.

Realizing this, Rachel wasn't scared anymore, she just felt so, so sorry for Quinn. She wanted to soothe her pain, protect her from the world. But she couldn't.

"I'm so sorry Quinn.", she said in a calm voice, not holding back on the affection in her tone. It was the least she could do.

She ducked under Quinns arm, that still pinned her to the wall and started walking away. Quinn didn't move an inch, but Rachel thought she could see new tears streaming down her perfect face.

Santana shouted: "You better keep your big mouth shut about that, Streisand!", but she didn't make a move to follow her either.

Walking out Rachel thought she heard Quinn mumble: "Why her, of all people, why did Rachel have to walk in?" and Santana softly shushing her.

She felt strangely dilated and very sad at the same time. Maybe Quinn didn't hate her. It seemed as if she was really just a sad girl, trying to stop herself from going crazy.

How much pain she must carry, if it can make her that cruel.

her Quinn, her beautiful sad Quinn, who made her life a living hell, just because she didn't know any better. How much she loved her!

The rest of the day Rachel spent distracted by her thoughts, Quinn skipped literature, the only class they usually had together, so Rachel didn't even pay attention there.

In the evening, her daddy hugged her as soon as he walked through the door and handed her a bag.

"Since you seem to be into literature lately, I picked you up a book from the library."

She smiled at him, thankfully.

"It's Camus, "The Fall", he's a brilliant man, great philosopher. Might distract you a bit."

Rachel thanked him and took the book straight to her room, she did feel like reading today. She reverendly opened the it and immediately noticed that there was something scribbled on the inside of the cover. She wrinkled her nose, because it was a library book, so it was not okay to just scribble your personal notes in it. But then curiosity got the better of her and she started reading. Two lines in, she almost cried, for the second time this day, because she realized that this was her poet. And she finally remembered how she had found the quote from yesterday, in the back of a play she borrowed from the library, "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof", scribbled in the same messy writing, that seemed as if someone was desperate to get his thoughts onto paper. It started right where the last chapter ended, and she loved how well it concluded the book, even though it seemed completely out of context.

And here her poet had done it again, used the blank space in this book to make his own thoughts be heard.

_The human race has in its mindless stupor created an environment that is toxic for any thought, thereby raising a society, that's unable to think. They are softly killing me from the inside, because by some genetic accident, and abnormality, I can think. And I'm unable to stop. _

_Even if I could, would it be worth losing my freedom and the understanding of the world? Wouldn't it just be a weak surrender to cruelty of the desert I live in? It is tearing me apart, because my strategy to survive became to pretend, though in me it's screaming "no". But I can't start a revolution, they wouldn't understand. They don't see what's wrong and I'm not the one to share it. It's too big for my little body. So many people who saw what I see chose to leave this life behind, because they too were quiet rebels, tired of hiding from the scorching sun that burns all that truly lives._

_The only thing that keeps me in this desert is a flower I see. Standing tall and beautiful, seemingly unaffected by the lack of nurturing water. The crowd roars and tramples on it, but every morning it's there again, glowing that little bit more. And somehow, I think, I hope that I'm like her, on the inside, but unlike me, her outsides correspond. She is the one to start the revolution, she alone has the strength to. And it makes me angry, angry that my disguise stops me from joining her, so I trample along with the others. My actions slowly stab my thoughts to death and my heart hates me._

It was so true, again. Rachel felt her tears spilling over now, because she got it. She knew the desert the poet was describing, she knew the pretending and the helplessness it brought. She was trampled upon, when she tried to stand up, but somehow this page, scribbled on by an anonymous stranger, gave her hope and the strength she was lacking. She understood what her father said to her this morning, about breaking up with Finn, but only now did she feel like it was actually something she was capable of doing.

She had to break up with Finn. And she had to hug Quinn, because they both needed it. It was a scary thought, but she felt brave right now.

"Thank you poet!", she whispered.


	3. Ropedancer

**A/N: I'm so sorry it took me so terribly long to update, I've been super busy, I was in Rome and Zurich and today I just wrote my Chemistry Finals. But now I have my summer break and I'm back :D I hope you enjoy the chapter. Reviews are always appreciated and I'm also still looking for someone to beta this, so if you're interested just pm me.**

As always, I don't own Glee or the characters, the only things that are mine are the story and the poems.

Santana was drumming her fingers nervously. She hated waiting and Quinn was the only one who ever dared to make her wait. Her fellow cheerleader knew exactly that Santana respected her as her Captain and friend and the Latina had by now gotten used to being second to her, but sometimes she was really pushing it. Like right now. She had been sitting in her car in front of the Fabray mansion for the last 10 minutes and the only reason she didn't just drive off or break something, preferrably Quinn's window, was that her Captain had promised to let Britts sneak off with her early, if Coach was leaving her in charge. That was definitely a privilege she wanted to keep at all cost.

Finally the door swung open and Quinn strode out, forcefully shutting it again straightaway. It worried Santana, because unless she was in a really bad mood, Quinn did not lose her composure or ladylike behaviour, especially not around her own home. Her suspicion got confirmed, she knew her best friend well enough to see immediately that the girl was very close to tears. For Fabray standards she was crying an awful lot lately.

"Hey, what's wrong with you? You're late!", Santana scolded, but her voice was soft. She wasn't the greatest with kind words and they both knew that she was going to be there for Quinn regardless of what she was saying. The blonde leaned back in her seat and drew in a shaky breath.

"I'm okay."

"Yeah, no, you're not. What's the matter?"

"What is usually the matter? Common San, it's not like you don't know him."

"Oh, so it is Mr. Fabray being an asshole again. What's he bitching about today?"

Quinn gave her a disapproving glance for her language, to which Santana answered with an eyeroll and a dramatic sigh, so Quinn started talking.

"It's prom again. If I'm not prom queen, he can't possibly be seen with me anymore, especially after all the money he already invested in the dress. Also, it would undermine my position as number one, and I can not lose my status in school. He would be so disappointed!"

"Well, nothing new there then."

"I also don't want to go back to being her, you know. I was desperate and I was sad, everything is so much better now, San. I can't let it all go, just by not winning that stupid crown.", Quinn added softly.

"Don't throw a fit now, hon, it's not like you're not going to win anyways!"

Santana really was trying her best to be supportive and she hoped it showed.

"Well, yeah, but I'd have to date Sam, because I can't go to prom without a boyfriend that looks good on me. Daddy works with his dad and he's a good Christian. Suitable, since we all are, too", her voice now had a sharp and sarcastic edge, it made her intimidating.

"And, you know, people start talking if I don't have a suitable boyfriend anyway. And since Berry is with Finn, there really is no one I could take to that damn prom, but freaking Sam!"

"Common, he isn't that bad. Your daddy wouldn't have approved of you going with Berry anyways!", Santana joked in a desperate attempt to lighten up the mood.

Quinn glared at her, opened her mouth in an attempt to say something, closed it again and wiped at her eyes furiously to stop the upcoming tears.

"I was talking about Finn!"

Now Santana actually felt sorry and very helpless, she hadn't meant for it to come across as mean, especially since she'd never really believed that Quinn cared about her ex-boyfriend much.

"I was joking, Quinn, common!"

"It's not funny, San! I really don't wanna date Sam.", Quinn just managed to squeeze out before the tears that had layered her voice all along burst out and she started to tremble with sobs.

"Wow, wow, Quinn, no need to cry. Calm down, please?"

Santana awkwardly patted the shoulder of a quivering Quinn.

"It's three months till Prom, you can think about it, you can ask Sam, you can not ask Sam, whatever you want, kay? Mios Dios, no one gives a shit, you'll be prom queen anyways. And if you really want Finnocence back just say the word, I'll gladly murder midget Streisand for you."

Finally Quinn stopped crying and gave the Latina an almost playful glare. Santana let out a relieved breath, she hated it when someone cried. It just got straight to her heart and Santana Lopez's heart had a reputation to be ice cold, she couldn't let some cheerleader with idiot parents and a surprisingly vulnerable side ruin it.

"You don't have to murder anyone, I don't care about that asshole!"

"Too bad.", Santana mumbled, her smirk showing just how glad she was Quinn was back to her old self.

"Feel free to slushy her though."

Quinn's eyebrow was raised and she wore her evil smirk. She was HBIC, captain of the cheerios again.

"And get your car moving, if we're late you're doing extra laps in practice."

Santana was aware that her Captain knew exactly that she wasn't the one responsible for their tardiness, her shimmering hazel eyes, looking even more dangerous after her little display of weakness, were daring her to say something about it. So she shut her mouth and drove on.

Rachel was sat in her Literature class, front row, eyes fixed on the teacher. There was no one sitting next to her, it wasn't very cool to be sitting in the front row and it was definitely social suicide to sit next to Rachel Berry. She was aware of that and it stung slightly when she thought about it, but at least no one was keeping her from paying attention to her subjects. Literature was one of her favourite classes, she'd always liked to read, she enjoyed the words and the pictures they would paint. Poetry is very similar to music, it allows us to experience emotions through a medium, so they become slightly less personal, but even more intense. Art allows us to live everything we need to, without putting ourselves in danger.

Rachel adored her teacher, because she thought he understood and conveyed exactly this attitude towards the books they read. He was a passionate man, but always seemed a little confused. Today they'd been looking at different structures and themes in contemporary english poetry. Rachel had come alive, having read so many poems and being able to offer a vast knowledge on this subject.

That's how she ended up practically having a private lesson, starting with discussing poets who purposfully don't structure they're poems at all, ending with an animated conversation about how Mr. Rhavedig was fluent in German, just because he really wanted to read Kafka and how Rachel sometimes looked through dictionaries and memorized new words as a mean to expand her already very sophisticated vocabulary.

Five minutes before the end of the lesson she kindly reminded him that the bell was going to ring soon and that he had in fact other students, even though they seemed more interested in learning text speech than how to create great literature.

Mr Rhavedig ruffled through his sheets until he found some assignement he might or might not have prepared for this lesson.

"Listen up, students, I require a poem from each of you tomorrow. I would like you to put at least one sentiment you are experiencing right now into it and then find a structure that matches and reflects this sentiment. Remember, the stronger the feelings, the more convincing your poem."

The students groaned, some scratched their heads, deprived of any ideas.

"For heavens sake, you lot are teenagers, you are supposed to be pure emotion without rational thoughts! Channel some of that energy!"

He was in his element now, trying to spark a tiny bit of interest for his subject in the listless crowd.

"You, Mr. Puckerman", he waved at an annoyed Puck who had rolled his eyes as soon as feelings had been mentioned, "Could even compose a beautiful piece about your excitement for the fairer sex and all the pleasures it brings."

Puck grinned at that, and Rachel admired the teacher even more, for quite probably being the only teacher getting Noah to write anything, even if it was going to be about sex.

Suddenly a chair shrieked and Quinn Fabray strode to the front. She passed Rachel who couldn't help but inhale her perfume. She should definitely add smells to her list of things that could paint pictures in your head, at least Quinn's smell. If she closed her eyes long enough she found herself under a tree in a overgrown backgarden with a book in her hands and the sun kissing her face. She never really knew there was a smell to the feeling of complete and utter peace with a hint of adventure somewhere in the air, but now that she thought about it, it was definitely what Quinn smelled like.

"I will not write poetry! I am here to learn about literature not to gush about my feelings. What a ridiculous assignment is that, anyways? I haven't learned anything in this lesson and now you expect me to what, share my deepest secrets with you? I refuse to write poetry. I don't do poetry!"

She all but shouted the last sentence and seemed incredibly worked up. Why she was so reluctant Rachel couldn't understand, but then again, this was Quinn, Quinn who was mysterious, who never shared anything about herself, who ruled the school without any sign of conscience. And it was a sight to behold, the angry cheerleader, cheeks flushed, not seeming to care that she was refusing a teacher. Rachel couldn't quite decide if the girl in front of her was an incredibly brave rebel or just a coward who couldn't even bring herself to write a poem.

"If you have a problem with me not completing this pointless homework, I suggest you talk to Sylvester!", Quinn hissed, "Have a good day!"

She stormed off and the bell rang.

Sam was nervously clutching his bag. He was about to ask Quinn Fabray to go out with him and even though he didn't like to admit it, it made him very anxious. Quinn could be intimidating, scary even, and he didn't want her wrath upon him.

Finally she strode down the hallway. Her lips were pressed together tightly, her eyes sparkling with anger. She looked fantastic and Sam swallowed audibly. He felt awkward doing it, it was one of these moments, where you try not to swallow, but you have to anyway, which leads to an audible gulp. Quinn must have heard it too, because she turned to face him. Sam gathered all his courage and opened his mouth. "Yes?", Quinn asked, managing to sound bored, impatient and annoyed at the same time. He wondered if she practised her tone at home.

"Yeah, I'm.. Sorry, yes. Uhm, hi."

He smiled at her dorkily. She shook her head and was just about to head off when he finally squeezed his words out.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to Breadstix? With me, I mean."

Quinn rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. She looked up at him again, her anger was gone, replaced by something that reminded him of the look that the soldiers in the war movies he liked to watch got, just before they followed a command, throwing themselves into sure death while screaming "For my country!".

"I'll go.", Quinn sighed. "This Friday, six o'clock, my house. You drive and pay dinner."

"Okay", Sam was astonished, that was easier, but also decidedly weirder than he had imagined it.

"I'm looking forward to it!", he called after his pretty date, who was already striding down the hallway again. She pretended not to hear him.

Rachel had been standing by her locker for several minutes now, trying to look busy, so people wouldn't stare and think she was strange. She felt like they did anyways, and she was certain that in half an hour there would be a post on Ben Jacob Israels blog about her being a serial killer planning to assassin Quinn Fabray, plotting the most painful death for the cheerio, while standing at her locker and observing the girl. In reality she was of course aware that no one was interested enough in her to even notice her, but she just had this paranoid feeling she always got when staring at Quinn secretly.

Because that much was true, she was looking at Quinn, however she had no desire to kill her. She'd rather take a bullet herself, than hurt Quinn. But that wasn't what she had to worry about right now. The only one hurting was herself, she felt sick and something was pulling at her heart painfully. Her eyes burned and her head throbbed from holding back the tears. She was trying to bite back the emotion, telling herself she was being unfair, but she couldn't help being jealous of Sam.

It wasn't the fact that he had made her realize once again what she herself couldn't do by demonstrating how devastatingly easy it was for him to ask Quinn on a date. Although having it rubbed in her face was maddening, she had gotten used to that thought by now. It had been a mantra in her head for too long to really faze her anymore, the edges of her pain had softened from touching them all too often.

What really got her this time, was that she liked Sam. She adored the boy, he was kind and gentle and there was no way Quinn would not fall for him. Maybe he would be the first boy the sad beauty would really love. Rachel could imagine it.

The worst part was that Sam did deserve a girlfriend like her, that he would make her happy, love her unconditionally, like a faithful little puppy, and that there was no excuse for Rachel to tell herself how much better she'd be for Quinn anymore. If Quinn was in love, there was no way of getting near her, no attempts to make her happy, no hope to get her, because trying to do so had the potential to harm something that was perfect.

Rachel did want for her love to be happy, but at that moment she realized that she wasn't as selfless and generous with her love as she thought. She'd rather see Quinn alone and struggling than with Sam and happy, because as long as Quinn's life wasn't perfect, Rachel could still be the missing piece fixing it. And she hated herself for that feeling, hated herself for putting a stupid dream before the happiness of the person, that meant everything to her.

Still standing at her locker she opened the book she had brought to school, scared of leaving it at home, as though the words could escape.

_Ropedancer_

_Pouring them all on a thread_

_Watching them flow _

_Dancing with me in my head_

_Free now to go_

_Tighter, tighter_

_more_

_faster, faster_

_spin_

_Stop!_

_It must soon become too much_

_Holding them all_

_Careful, so fragile to touch_

_Seeing them fall_

How beautiful, how selfless must one be to stop holding on, to bear the pain and watch them fall, setting them free. Her poet had painted a picture in her head, a flawless picture of a perfect human being. A perfect human being in so much pain, balancing like a dancer on a rope, not daring to step aside, yet still allowing "them" to fall.

Rachel tried to push her own worries to the back of her head, to plan the next step. But she wasn't the poet, she wasn't the dancer, her feelings clinging to her and making her stumble.

She sucked in a deep breath, steadied herself to keep going. She managed to gain back composure without falling, she could go on, just carrying a bit more weight.

She looked to Quinn's locker. The girl was gone.


End file.
